Waiting Is Sweet (If You Can Make The Time)
by A-Chan
Summary: Lenora 'Bones' McCoy and Spock lose a month of personal time to a string of constant back to back incidents involving the Enterprise and its crew. It's taking a toll on their personal relationship and Spock has resorted to some drastic measures to make up for lost time. Genderswap, femslash. Female!Bones and Female!Spock.


**A/N** **:** This fic is dedicated to Kimjirk on tumblr, whose art in 2014 converted me into loving and _considering_ femslash Spones. Her art inspired the mental imagery that made this fic 2 years in the making. I do have another femslash Spones fic based off her art that has to deal with Vulcan hairstyles. It's in the works but I promise it should be out this year.

This is my first _ever_ published femslash fic, and an explicit one at that, so I hope it satisfies all you readers of femslash. I tried my hardest! There needs to be more femslash and Spones in the world and the opportunity to put both together? Best thing ever. I made sure to research the things so it would be plausible/accurate but if anything stands out, let me know. I've never written lesbian sex before. Also, there's a tiny, tiny reference to one of the TOS movies. ;)

Also, this turned out longer than I thought but I had fun with it. I swear I'll write more fics with plot that have NOTHING to do with smut, I swear! But I hope you enjoy this piece.

* * *

 ** _Waiting Is Sweet (If You Can Make The Time)_**

Sometimes it felt like a miracle just managing to have a personal life on the Enterprise. With its propensity towards trouble and the unexpected, life was never dull. If something wasn't going wrong on planet side missions, it was something they brought back: be it a plant, a virus, or the ceremonial urn that _some_ crewman thought would make a _great_ decorative piece in their quarters and on their way back to the ship, had launched the lot of them in an accidental diplomatic incident.

(How was the sucker supposed to know the merchant who sold it to him had a blood feud with the family he stole the urn from and felt it was proper revenge? It was concluded the merchant's wares were legitimate and the seller had a scrupulous reputation according to the planet's authorities. Of all the shops in all the worlds, somehow trouble navigated wee Ensign Berkeley to that stall. Typical.)

And even after they cleaned up _that_ diplomatic mess, Planet Gaess still haunted them after they've left its surface. (Lenora still had no idea how to pronounce the name. She had watched Uhura's tongue and throat do some creative linguistic acrobatics to come up with the right "s" sound and Spock had to make an effort, which she never had to do.)

Gaess was like a botanical paradise; the foliage from its plants were uniquely textured (one texture had been indescribably _soft,_ softer than the fur of any cute animal known to the Federation), colored (in some of the weirdest colors Lenora had seen, in her opinion), and shaped (not seen outside of a computer graphic simulation), _and_ that wasn't including the plants with the flowers. Sulu could talk anyone's ears off all night about the flowered plants alone. One plant's seeds contained a compound, when ingested, that helped with stomach ulcers. Needless to say, _botanical_ paradise was an understatement. More like Sulu's future retirement home more accurately put.

The midnight blue plant, when it was transported to the ship, had been in a dormant state. Its buds weren't fully blossomed and had been closed for two weeks. During their initial scans, nothing signified that this plant could be dangerous and the local government reassured them the plant was perfectly safe. Wrong. Maybe the plant did not cause harm to _them_ but to humans and other aliens? When it released its pollen, the stuff was slow-acting and highly communicable. Anyone who had contact with it, even if they wiped it off, still left traces everywhere on the damn ship. It took two hours to run through the infected person's system. And when it did, boy, Lenora was glad she was in sickbay, because it was mayhem. The pollen induced an allergic reaction in the host, caused itching, and then thirty minutes later, signs of swelling. Somehow the swelling would travel from the first point of contact and then the whole body was succumb.

Not. Fun.

Lenora was fortunate enough to be wearing gloves at the time. A week after their trip to Gaess, they had made a pit stop at the new star base Starfleet was establishing. At said base, they picked up the ambassador from one of the new inaugurated worlds. She (the closest pronoun to what she used on her planet, though she enjoyed the sound of the word "she", so she didn't object) had contracted something that resembled a UTI because she hadn't fully understood the mechanics of using a humanoid style toilet. Needless to say, Lenora devoted _three_ days of her time to coming up with a treatment or else Starfleet would've nagged her head off. _Three_ days she could've spent making it up to Spock, who _only_ had nights off, because of the sheer amount of plants the botany department needed cataloged.

Some part of her was glad, and some part of her was not, because the _only_ way the cream she created (after three sleepless nights) could be applied was _up_ the orifice that Ambassador Vem's people used to excrete their waste. _And_ her people had stubby, short fingers, while the orifice was longer than that. So Lenora was the one who had to apply it, and not a nurse, because this was the _ambassador_.

With said gloves on, about to put her finger in the tub of cream, she was interrupted by the yells and screams of her name. She had put the tub down and told Ambassador Vem to stay put while she sorted out the mess.

And what a mess it was.

Nurses and crewmen hoisted four people, who tured shades of red and showed various stages of swelling, onto biobeds. Without taking the gloves off, she used her tricorder to scan them, touched their bodies in case the tricorder missed something. Touching the swollen skin caused extreme pain unless the person was scratching it. The scratching was a temporary relief and Lenora was worried these patients would claw at their skin so hard they would bleed.

But of course, the ambassador _had_ to see what was going on, and even helped one of the patients when they almost toppled over a biobed.

Lenora had been _furious_ at the time. It was one thing to treat the physiology of humanoids she was knowledgeable about but the ambassador's was a different story. What if the agent that caused this madness did worse damage than her patients? What if it could kill her? The questions mounted in her mind for a moment before she tamped it down . She had pulled the ambassador aside and quietly chastised her.

"You are my responsibility. How am I supposed to save you from something that I have no treatment for? The tricorder didn't identify what was the cause. I don't want to find out if what happens to you was preventable."

The response the ambassador gave her made Lenora believe that, yep, she was _now_ one of them, because she swore she could hear Jim giving her this answer.

"People were in trouble. I had to help. On my planet, it is highly valued in our culture that we must help as much as we possibly can and I believed I could provide it in that moment. If we are to stay in your Federation, my people must extend that belief to our allies as well. In this case, your patients."

Lenora rolled her eyes but accepted her explanation. The ambassador garnered some new respect in her eyes.

Turns out though, Ambassador Vem's scale-like skin was the reason she was immune. It created an impenetrable barrier which did not allow the pollen to be absorbed in her bloodstream. As a result, she became a go to messenger for Lenora and the crew trying to stop the pollen's effects.

Even though Lenora had not been exposed, she was trapped with those who did, so she had to wear a hazmat suit for the remainder of the incident. Ambassador Vem ferried samples from the growing number of infected patients to the labs, where Spock and M'Benga (who had been off duty at the time) were busy finding a cure along with other unaffected crewmen. Lenora had been able to assist through ship's communications but felt helpless. She should be in those labs finding the cure with the two of them, not stuck trying to keep the symptoms at bay.

When she felt stuck or helpless, Spock had always been there to soothe her worries. Always gave those Vulcan kisses of hers and if she was really troubled, ran a hand down her head and through her hair. Sometimes the gesture made Lenora think she was a house pet but then had to remind herself that Spock adopted the habit when she owned her pet sehlat I-Chaya. The evidence of Spock having emotions to her person was gratifying and always calmed her mind from that endless spiral of thoughts.

All Lenora could do was provide anti-itch cream, which helped somewhat, and tried out as many anti-inflammatory hypos they stocked that was tested not to cause any damage.

Chapel had been a godsend. She was on top of organizing the other nurses, kicked their ass into gear, took care of any problems that didn't warrant Lenora's attention.

"Doctor, the last thing you need to worry about is the problems of 36 people. If this allows you time to help Doctor M'Benga and Spock, I'll happily shoulder any of their complaints. Besides, the last time we had an outbreak, I ended up being showered with gifts from five new admirers. You know how flattering that is to a single gal who's looking for a little romance?"

Lenora told herself the next time it was peaceful and quiet on the ship, Nurse Chapel earned herself some time off.

If it wasn't Chapel who was relieving her worries, then Jim usually stepped up to the plate. Between his constant check-ins and debriefs from Gaess, sometimes he supplied Lenora with some ship scuttlebutt.

"Did you hear that Chekov finally snapped at Sulu after hearing him constantly talk about those plants we got? Personally, I think he's mad that Sulu's not feeling as upset as he is. That new nurse Chekov's been crushing on was stuck with you. He's worried she might get infected. Meanwhile, Sulu's been busy helping Spock and M'Benga _and_ he's always looking happier than the moon when finding out new information about the plants. At least, that's what I _heard_ when Chekov screamed at him in the mess hall yesterday."

Lenora had almost slammed her face into her desk but didn't. But Jim's words worked - for a moment she wasn't thinking about the stupid pollen but instead pictured Chekov's face as he screamed. His face would turn red and he'd shake his arms in the air. It was always entertaining to watch when he did.

"No Jim," she replied, "Because that would mean I'd be having what you could call a _life_ on this ship, not stuck in sickbay dealing with the aftermath of alien plants. But thanks anyway. I'll be sure to tell Spock to have some words with Mister Sulu."

Jim's face had beamed from her console.

"I already told Spock. As of two hours ago, I'm sure Mister Sulu got the talk from her when he reported to the lab."

Lenora grumbled, wanted to spend that time reminding Spock so she could have _some_ contact with her girlfriend. Instead, Jim thwarted her plans without meaning to. Somehow, Jim could read it as plain as day on her face.

"Don't worry, I'll tell her you said hi."

Lenora rolled her eyes and exhaled through her nose, secretly grateful that Spock would at least think about her once that day.

"Gee, thanks Jim."

Jim's smile was blinding.

"No problem, Bones. Now I got to get back to work. Just comm me if you need anything, alright?"

Lenora had nodded and went back to work.

* * *

A week later - a goddamn _week -_ with the combined forces of Lenora, Spock, M'Benga, Sulu, Ambassador Vem, and the science department, they finally came up with an agent that neutralized the pollen that did not harm their patients. It had taken 26 tries until one yielded positive results that didn't come up with a horrible side effect. Lieutenant Lindsey grew pustules that finally faded out thanks to Lenora's quick thinking. Kevin Riley's heart rate dangerously spiked when taking treatment number four. It was only a testament to their team that only 8 out of the 26 treatments gave some kind of side effect. (Lenora didn't want to hear about genital itching again, thank you very much). The rest just didn't work. Either it treated one symptom or the other but not both. Sometimes neither.

Once everyone was treated, decontaminated, disposed of any clothing that contained the quarantined pollen, given a shower and some new clothes, Lenora was able to plant her face in her pillow. The only thing missing was Spock's body wrapped around hers as she slept.

Even though her office had a cot, Lenora's rest during the whole incident was short and choppy. Stress also kept her up. And when she was up, she ended up working on the treatment, so those became sleepless days. The cycle repeated itself. Now that it was over, she drifted to sleep instantly.

When she woke up the next day, she woke to a pair of arms surrounding her in warmth. Spock's gentle breath fanned her skin. Spock had faint dark circles under her eyes, so faint Lenora had to move her face close to see it. Taking in the sweep of her brow and the eyelashes that framed her cheeks, she placed a kiss on her cheekbone. Spock didn't stir and she trailed a path of kisses to her lips.

Spock was probably as exhausted as she was. In fact, she probably only rested one night, Lenora thought, knew how stubborn Spock could be especially when she was involved. She caressed the side of her head with her hand and pressed a kiss on her forehead, resumed her sleep again.

* * *

The personnel involved with finding the treatment, along with the patients themselves, were given three days of rest.

Lenora and Spock were among the few that needed it, because it took energy just to get up and eat something. The rest of the time they napped together or Spock did her meditations. While it was nice to wake up in the arms of her Vulcan partner, by the end of the third day, Lenora wanted to do more than lazily kiss Spock in their bed.

On the their first day back on the job, Lenora felt as well rested as she could be. Her eyes didn't feel weighed down or fuzzy. She could stand up on her feet without needing to sit down after two seconds, and the amount of caffeine needed to be alert dwindled significantly.

The only thing bringing a downer to her day was that Spock wasn't in the room.

Lenora muttered under her breath about Vulcans wanting a head start. She checked the time, realized she didn't have time to eat breakfast. Then she got ready for the day: she brushed her teeth, combed her hair, slipped her uniform on along with her boots. She walked to the bridge, happy to see more than just sickbay or the walls of her quarters. In her mind she made a plan to go to lunch early to make up for breakfast.

As she stepped off the turbolift, she observed her crewmates busy at their stations, greeted them with a smile as their eyes met. Spock was sitting down looking at her console, yet did not turn to see if she had stepped off. Well, if she wanted Spock's attention, she'd get it.

"Hey, Jim."

Jim looked up from his PADD and grinned. "Hey Bones, you're looking better. Wanted to check up on everyone?"

She shrugged as if Jim caught her in the act. "You got me."

In the corner of her eye, she watched Spock slowly get up, carefully twisted her body to look at her, and then into the viewer. She pretended to glance around the bridge again to watch Spock. Her body wasn't bent as far over as she normally did and she looked down to see Spock wasn't wearing her leggings. Lenora blinked, scrunched her eyebrows together. That was strange of Spock, she thought. Spock always found the ship to be cold and covered her legs. She wondered if something was wrong with her and decided to ask about it later.

Lenora turned to look at Jim again and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Well, as much as I'd like to have a longer break from sickbay, I got work to do too. Can't be away too long, ya know."

A chuckle escaped Jim's lips as he shook his head. "Oh I know, Bones. I know."

As she stepped in front of the turbolift door, Jim's voice stopped her.

"Hey, lunch later, Bones?"

As she stepped on, she said, "Sure, Jim. I'll see ya at lunch."

* * *

Sickbay was quiet and uneventful.

Someone must have lit a fire under their asses to make the place in tip-top shape during her three days off. (Lenora wagered maybe Chapel and M'Benga had something to do with it.) The only thing she had to do was paperwork. And even the pile of paperwork was shorter than it was after an event like the pollen incident. M'Benga definitely had to be in on it.

Hitting the comm button, she rang Chapel.

"Chapel here."

Her voice sounded muted like she had been woken up by Lenora. Lenora shook her head and apologized. "I know your shift isn't until later today but I have to tell you that I _know_ you had a hand in making sickbay up to speed while I was gone."

Chapel laughed, could imagine her smiling at her words. "It's my job, doctor."

"Well, since you've done a good job this last week and a half, I'm giving you two days off, barring if another emergency comes up. So you can go back to sleep now."

Chapel's voice lilted with joy. "Thank you, doctor."

"My pleasure, Christine. Just know that when you get back, there's gonna be lots of work to be done, so you better rest up."

Lenora's sure that if Christine were standing right there, she'd hug her right now. "Of course, doctor. Chapel out."

Lenora removed her hand from the button and checked the chronometer. 11:30. Well, it may be early for lunch but there wasn't anything for her to do at the moment. Her stomach growled and the decision was settled. She hit the comm button again.

"You free for lunch now, Jim?"

"Now is good, Bones. It's been quiet today. I'll bring Spock along too."

Lenora sighed, knew she'd just have to ask Spock later about her behavior on the bridge.

* * *

Lunch was uneventful.

If Jim hadn't offered to join her, Lenora would be grilling Spock right now. Why was she taking short steps as they walked over to the mess hall? Why was she not wearing her leggings? Why was she not looking Lenora in the eyes? The last three days, Spock was the same as she'd been _before_ the pollen fiasco: she spoke her mind, always looked her in the eyes, and kissed her the Vulcan and human way. Spock had to be up to something but what? And if it was personal, she didn't want to involve Jim in the conversation, at least not yet. (Maybe not ever, depending on what it was.)

Still, Jim was good company, talked about how Sulu and Chekov had made up as friends, now that Chekov and his nurse "friend" had been spending time together.

"Yeah, and get this, Bones, Chekov asked Sulu if any of those flowers from Gaess were safe enough to give as a gift. You should've seen Sulu! I think it's safe to say that little dispute of theirs is through."

Lenora chewed her food before she spoke, eyed Spock watching her in the corner of her eye.

"That's good to know, Jim. Hate to see those two at odds at each other, even though Chekov _was_ justified in his reasons."

Jim turned to look at Spock for her opinion which caused the first officer to snap out of her uncharacteristic daze with a blink.

"Chekov's reasoning was understandable," Spock supplied, "However, it was not enough to justify yelling and terminating communication with Sulu for several days."

Lenora swallowed her food, rolled her eyes as the corner of her mouth turned upright. "Only you would say that. I'd say the same thing to you and you wouldn't stop anyway, unlike Sulu there."

Spock's eyes gazed directly into hers - _there_ was her Vulcan. Lenora wondered if Spock was going to act weird all throughout their lunch.

"Mister Sulu is an individual whose passion is only fueled by knowledge. Even though he could not contain his... _enthusiasm_ , he should not be faulted for wanting to spread that knowledge to his friend. If Mister Chekov was bothered, he should have endeavored to communicate his need clearer."

Spock's eyes gleamed and that tiny smirk she liked to say was Spock's version of smugness appeared on her face. That face made her want to win the argument and then lock them both in the nearest empty room. Spock knew it _and_ actually admitted she observed Lenora doing so on several occasions. If she was trying to ramp her up, it was working. Pity that Jim was there at the table, otherwise she would've done something lewd to Spock's hands.

Instead she "accidentally" got her finger covered in the chocolate pudding and stuck it inside her mouth, made sure to time it while Jim was looking into his own and spooned his. She finished the maneuver with a short moan.

Jim released a moan of his own around his mouth. After taking the spoon out to scoop some more, he said, "You're right Bones, this pudding is really good today! Whoever had a hand in it must have put extra chocolate."

Lenora released her spoon from her grip and looked up at Spock. The Vulcan had a light green tint around the tips of her ears and her eyes was focused on her.

Of course.

The finger sucking bit was just a bonus, wasn't it? Or maybe it was her plan all along, Lenora thought. If Spock wanted to make their first night together _extra_ special after their "hiatus", Lenora was just going to go for the ride and enjoy it too.

The rest of lunch, Lenora just relished the pudding, and every so often licked the spoon, just to get at Spock.

* * *

When her shift was over, Lenora gave a sigh of relief and immediately rushed out without saying a word. If Spock wanted to finally have sex with her, in God knows _how_ long, she wanted to be there _now_. She knew Spock probably was thinking about what Lenora had done with the pudding during lunch and Lenora couldn't stop thinking about Spock's dark eyes.

She bounced on her feet, rocked back and forth as she waited for the turbolift to go to her deck. She had been unlucky that three other people were in there with her and had stops before her.

When one of the other occupants eyed her, she stopped moving and stood still. The _thought_ of being intimate with Spock again... The thought made her heart race, wanted to burst out of her chest. It had been a long few weeks and being with Spock was _very_ appealing.

Finally, she made it to her stop, contained the urge to skip and dropped by her quarters to see if Spock was inside.

She wasn't, so she went next door to Spock's.

Spock's room was warm, as it always was, set at a temperature that was halfway between Vulcan and human standards. The heat made Lenora think of spring days that started to warm up into summer, and for Spock, like autumn temperatures settling into winter. The compromise was good and Lenora liked that it was warm.

Lenora took a deep breath and tried to contain her excitement. Spock just raised an eyebrow at her, allowed her to compose herself before she spoke.

"Hi, Spock. Am I late?"

"You are not. I only arrived a minute before you."

Spock lifted her hand out, in the recognizable Vulcan gesture Lenora was fond of. She brushed her own two fingers down, took her time dragging the pads of her fingers against Spock. Spock took a deep breath and closed her eyes, a flush formed on her face.

"I see I'm not the _only_ one who was thinking about earlier."

When Lenora removed her hand, Spock's eyes opened to answer her. "You're correct."

Lenora bent her knee, used the wall to balance herself with one hand, and tried to take her boot off the leg crossed like a four. She found Spock staring at her, her face a dark green shade. Just what was so erotic about trying to take her boot off? She looked clumsy and ungraceful.

"Lenora, it would be more logical to crouch down or to bend your hips to take your boots off, like so."

Spock bent over and demonstrated just _how_ to remove those boots correctly. All the while, flashed Lenora with the greatest view she had seen in a long, long time.

"Oh my God, Spock."

Lenora didn't care about those boots now. She needed to be right next to Spock, needed to touch her with her own two hands. Needed to _feel_ her.

Her hands trailed down her sides slowly, past the swell of her breasts, toward her waist, before it landed at the top of her hips.

"Isn't it illogical to wear crotchless panties?" She questioned. Illogical maybe but the idea that Spock willingly would put it on made her dizzy.

"It is not when the sole purpose is to get you aroused."

Oh, Lenora thought, her body filled with warmth at the implication. She was right: Spock doing illogical acts for her sake because she'd like it? It was more than she could handle.

Her hand slipped to the bottom of Spock's uniform and slowly lifted the hem, saw her glistening folds out on display. As she gently pushed her forward, she gathered the skirt and flipped it completely, Spock's bottom in view.

It had been weeks, torturous, painful weeks since they had time to themselves. The notion that Spock missed her _so_ much...to resort to _this_... That she endured the cold, made the effort not to reveal the fact staring right in front of her... The electric heat of arousal tingled down her stomach, felt herself grow wet.

Her fingers lightly teased Spock's folds, her tips became coated and drenched quickly. The sensation was appealing; she needed to taste Spock. Before she could remove her hand, Spock's folds spasmed and the Vulcan lightly gasped, her hips canted over Lenora's fingertips; she slowly watched and listened to the sound of her fingers sliding inside.

Spock moaned her name quietly like a prayer as Lenora tried _not_ to thrust her fingers in deeper.

"God Spock, you're so warm, wet, and tight," she said in wonder, awe in her voice.

"It has been too long, ashaya," Spock gasped, pushed down her hips to sink Lenora's fingers deeper. For silent moments, Lenora observed the indulgent display of her hips swaying up and down, her fingers getting covered with Spock's arousal as her digits slid in and out.

It seems it had been far too long for the both of them: Spock practically begged for it by the steady pace she kept with her hips, braced against a cabinet as a lever. Up and down, Spock's ass moved partly covered except for the the carefully sewn hole of the panties that framed her.

Suddenly, Lenora's fingers weren't enough. She needed to feel her naked flesh against hers, needed skin to skin contact, a real connection. Wanted to feel her tits brushing against her Vulcan lover's, wanted to rub her clit and folds against Spock until they both came, needed to see Spock's back arch in pleasure.

She licked Spock's flavor off her fingers, savored the taste. She spun the other around to face her, Spock's face flushed with need.

Spock's hands grabbed the bottom of her dress and flipped it off her. Then, Spock's eyes darted down towards the wet spot in her underwear; her eyes became darker with lust and approval.

Spock's hands encased her hips, her thumbs slid underneath the edge of her regulation underwear. The path downward was slow; Spock wanted to take her time touching her skin with her fingers, used her panties to tease and caress her skin. The longer the minutes passed, the more wet she became under Spock's darkening eyes.

Soon it was coming further down her legs and Spock went down on her knees.

Her hands cupped the back of her thighs, slid her underwear in one fell, fast, swoop, past her knees to the tops of her boots.

With a show of Vulcan strength, Spock grabbed the back of her legs and swiveled her against the cabinet. Lenora yelped and supported herself with her hands.

"As hot as you look down there, warn a gal if you're gonna do that, yeah?"

Spock's gaze flicked from her crotch to her face. "I will endeavor to do so next time."

Spock's focus shifted back down. Lenora watched as her eyes gazed at her body like she was one of those scientific mysteries she wanted to explore and learn about. If Spock wanted to experiment with her body, Lenora was happy to help and comply, _especially_ with sexual experiments.

Heat traveled up her belly to her spine, her throat became dry as Spock spread her thighs as far she could go. Her stare was hungry and like a visceral presence, touched, stroked her skin, made her wetter and hotter.

Moist breath ghosted over her naked skin; Spock's thumbs stroked the outside of her folds. Her teasing must be her revenge for having been without personal contact for so long, she thought.

Before she _could_ complain about getting a move on, Spock parted her lips, the flat of her tongue licked her. Oh the texture of her wet, rough tongue traced her folds, up and around, avoided her clit.

She arched her back, needed more of Spock's tongue; her skin was burning up, the fabric of her bra constricting and in the way of her hardening tits.

Lenora unbuckled the clasp and slid it off, circled her nipples with her fingers, timed it with the press of her hips to Spock's mouth. The tip of her tongue skirted around her clit, teased her further. Spock's grip tightened, her fingers spread her wider, her tongue became more urgent.

Then the tongue slipped inside, filled her, made Lenora push her hips over bumpy, fleshy appendage. Spock's tongue was not as good as her fingers but it was inside her and she wanted more of it, felt her juices slide down Spock's tongue. She tried to spread her legs wider, needed the leverage to take her further in. Her hips and Spock's tongue moved with a syncopated rhythm, her tongue slotted in and out of her tight, wet heat. Lenora pinched her nipples, the sharp sting brought awareness and pleasure down her spine.

It was that moment Spock slipped her tongue out and wrapped her mouth over her clit, applied suction as the pad of her tongue traveled over her it, up and down, around and around. The two moaned; hips moved quicker, vibrations heightened the pleasure through her clit, became so wet that it trickled down her ass.

She grabbed Spock's head, ground her head up and down her clit before she hoisted her up.

Spock looked so good, her dark hair askew from her hands, a raised eyebrow, along with shiny, swollen lips coated in her juices.

"Why did you stop, Lenora?"

Her confused look was endearing.

"I want you to come with me, face to face."

Lenora wrapped her arms around her, reached the bottom of the skant to pull it off her. "You're wearing too many clothes."

The uniform came off and before Lenora could take Spock's bra off, Spock captured her lips in a kiss, tasted herself on her tongue.

"Ashaya," Spock breathed in a reverent whisper. Her eyes had fluttered halfway closed, clutched Lenora tightly against her. Spock took her lips again, mapped the inside of her mouth as if trying to find if anything changed in her absence. Her hands roamed over her sweaty skin; Spock moaned into their mouths when her fingers found Lenora's folds, easily fit inside her.

Lenora broke the kiss and released a breathy cry, clenched against the penetration of Spock's hand. The squelch of her fingers was loud, aroused them even more. Spock let loose a quiet groan, a singing victory to Lenora's ears, Spock's eyes squeezed shut. Spock must be feeding off everything: the wet friction of stretching Lenora out against her fingertips, of the want and need in Lenora's mind, of her own rising arousal.

It was difficult trying to spread her legs further without Spock's help, wanted to angle her in deeper. As if Lenora spoke her request aloud, Spock's mouth covered one of her nipples as a distraction. She sucked and lightly nibbled, her tongue circled the hard nub interspersed with upward scrapes of her teeth.

Lenora grasped the side of Spock's head in one hand, the other searched for the clasp of her bra. With every upward movement of her mouth, a sharp, electric heat of pain and pleasure proceeded down her body, pooled in the center of her groin, built the rising well of arousal.

A snap brought the bra open, fell down Spock's smooth arms as Spock moved her mouth to the other nipple. Lenora's free hand framed the other side of Spock's face, fingers accidentally brushed against the meld points.

"Spock," she cried. "Fuck baby, so good."

Her words were amplified by sound and in mind; Lenora's pleasure grew and encompassed her being.

"Spock," she pleaded, her thoughts tumbled in her mind as a mishmash of words.

 _Need you, need to come with you...Oh, Spock..._

Spock released her mouth and fingers and stopped to look at their surroundings. Before Lenora could lodge her displeasure, Spock wrapped her hands around the back of her thighs and hoisted her off the ground.

A soft thud followed with Lenora on her back against a table. Spock ripped her panties free from the tops of her boots and cupped her hands on the back of her knees, spread her as far as she could go; the muscles in Lenora's thighs cried out in unused protest.

Spock towered over her, her body flushed a light green, naked except for her underwear that framed her slit. Her eyes glimmered with hunger, feasted on the visual display of Lenora's body, of her heaving, flushed breasts, of her hard nipples that glittered with Spock's saliva, of the glistening, red folds that still trickled with her arousal, along with Lenora's love and desire in her mind. The intensity of Spock's eyes drew out a moan, her head tipped back as she canted her hips.

 _Need you, need you_ , her mind spoke, the image of tribbing against each other darted under her eyelids. Spock wanted to merge into that image, be inside her mind and body.

Instead she wound Lenora's legs around her and met her pelvis with her own. Her arms cradled under Lenora's back. With another show of strength, she flipped their positions so her back was on the table and Lenora straddled her from above.

Lenora was stunned for a moment before she caught her lips; her hips ground against Spock in frenzied motions.

It was frantic, felt Spock's wet arousal glide against her folds, their hands touched everything and nothing. Lenora's hands settled on her hips, rubbed against her, felt the band of her special underwear.

Words, epithets, everything spilled out of her mouth; their bodies tumbled forward in their desperate need to touch one another.

"Oh, God, Spock. Fuck!"

She thrust harder, faster, their bodies so slick she'd thought she would fly off. But the pleasure built between them, Spock's hands spread her ass, helped her to go faster.

"I'm close, Spock. I'm close!"

Spock only moaned her name.

"Lenora-"

They braced themselves, the sensations driven by their bodies overwhelming; it all felt so right, so good; their bodies rutted together, their hearts thrummed with their movements as their arousal started peaking, only heard each other.

One of Lenora's hands touched on her meld points; Spock drowned in the feedback loop of their desire, their thoughts and voices one. Faster, harder, _more_ , they chased after that climbing pleasure, felt their bodies shook as they got closer. Spock and Lenora, Lenora and Spock, their arousal was one and the same; their need and desire only for the other and with a soft cry, their arousal crested and rose over, climaxed into that sought after orgasm, their backs in a graceful arc. Then their hips slowed down, aftershocks of pleasure teasing their sensitive bodies, helped along by a slick trail of their release.

Lenora collapsed on Spock's chest, her forehead on Spock's shoulder, her chin rested on the swell of her breasts. She sighed and inhaled the sweat of her body, her unique scent. Lenora was sated and content and finally home.

Spock's two fingers caressed her cheek, tender and loving.

"I, too, have missed you," she simply said, spoke their shared thought out loud.

Lenora smiled into Spock's skin, happy for now.


End file.
